Quest: The Last Mage, #3

By J. L. Jerard

WHAT IF MONSTERS ARE REAL?

 

WHAT IF THEY KNOW WHERE YOU ARE, AND THEY'RE COMING TO GET YOU?

 

At long last, Sophie has something to smile about. She's escaped her uncle's vicious spite and has begun the challenge that will prove, once and for all, that she is worthy of the woodland community she longs to serve.

 

But what begins as an adventure, quickly turns into a nightmare, and Sophie soon finds herself fighting for her life – and the lives of her friends.

 

Can she survive against all the odds?

 

Will she make it to the Beacons?

 

And who (or what) is it, that so badly wants her to fail?

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. L. Jerard
• Release date: Jan 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9781739589844

Book preview

For Ethan

Chapter One

IF SWIFT WANTED her dead, he had a funny way of going about it.

Why give her such an extravagant gift?

Why wish her well so publicly?

Why turn up to her leaving party at all?

Not that she was complaining. Swift was a fox of great standing in the community. His sensational appearance to wish her well would be the talk of the woodland. The valley too. He had managed to do more for her reputation in five minutes than all the weeks of her own bungled attempts to make a good impression; to convince the woodlanders she could be trusted, even if she was a human.

Sophie remembered the dog fox’s black claws digging into her skin, and the way he stared at her. She shivered.

‘Thank the earth that’s over with.’ Red - also a fox, and one of Sophie’s best friends - shook her body from the tip of her pointed nose all the way to her bushy, black-tipped tail.

Sophie nodded. She hated crowds at the best of times. If she’d known half the woodland beasts would be at her leaving party, she would have made a feeble excuse and stayed away. Instead, she had endured a warren full of beasts that didn’t like or trust her. It had been torture.

They’d probably only turned up to make sure the little human freak really was leaving. She grabbed a parcel of nettle leaves from her pocket and, as she swallowed them and uttered the undoing spell that would return her to her full human height, she couldn’t help but agree with them. She really was a freak.

When the spell had completed its stomach-churning transformation, Sophie followed Red in silence. She pulled her duffel coat up around her neck, snow crunching underfoot and falling in clumps as they brushed the proud, upright stems of the ferns towering over them.

Breaking free of them, they slid down an embankment to a track running along the river’s edge and paused to catch their breath.

Flash’s bedchamber had been crammed with at least fifty woodland beasts; it was a furnace compared to the bitter cold of the world above the warren. Especially after the freak summer snowstorms they’d been having.

It was cold, but beautiful.

‘Mad, Uncle Swift turning up like that,’ said Red, her ears flattening against her skull at the thought of him. ‘Bit over the top. I wish he didn’t enjoy that side of it so much. He was in his element. Did you see the way he held the room? Every beast was looking right at him and listening to every word he said.’

‘Yeah.’ Sophie shuffled, scraping the snow at her feet with a well-worn trainer. Already her toes were blocks of ice.

‘Maybe I was wrong about him, Red,’ she said. ‘Why would he come here tonight if the War Council were just sending me on a wild goose chase... or... y’know... trying to get rid of me? Why would he give me the bracelet?’

‘He had to come,’ snorted Red. ‘He had to be here to nip the rumours in the bud, which he seems to have done. But you’re right about the bracelet. It seems strange to give you such an expensive gift if he’s hoping you never come back. Earth only knows where he got it from, or how he had the coin to pay for it. Uncle Swift is a beast of means. But still.’

Sophie pulled up her sleeve and stared in awe at the jade green gem. It was held in place by delicate metal fingers that were woven together and then flattened to form a solid band around her wrist.

It was beautiful.

Expensive.

Not a gift you gave to someone you hoped would die horribly, far from home, at the hands of a deadly wildcat.

The challenge Swift had set her was hard, dangerous even, but if he was trying to get rid of her, why give her something that could keep an entire generation of woodlanders in coin? It just didn’t make sense.

She pulled her sleeve back, embarrassed by the riches she wore.

‘Ready?’ Red’s long, pointed ears quivered with anticipation.

Sophie grinned back at her, thrusting her doubts to one side. She was just as excited as Red. Why wouldn’t she be? She was about to embark upon the adventure of a lifetime to find the wildcat of the Beacons; a quest that would take her far from home over difficult terrain.

How many other human girls her age could say the same? Humans of any age?

So what if the woodlanders that had wished her well only moments before didn’t think she would survive it, or even hoped she wouldn’t come back? Sophie didn’t care what they thought. She might not be a witch or a wizard, but she was a mage. Untrained, maybe, but still a mage. Earth magic flowed in her veins.

She could feel it.

And even though she’d only discovered her magic a few weeks ago, she could already do... stuff. Small things. Little things. But amazing in their own right, like shrinking down to a beastly size; talking to animals; she’d even learnt how to make fire. Not the dull, single spark the Forest Mage created by muttering things and waving his hands, but full-on balls of fire levitating in thin air just above her hand.

Sophie smiled as she thought about Ben: his leathery, weather-beaten skin; the way his face collapsed into a tangle of wrinkles when he smiled; his brown, twinkling eyes.

Her skin was pale. Worse, she was skinny and frail. Whilst Ben looked like the solid trunk of an oak, Sophie was the dead wood of an outer twig that could snap at any moment. Her white-blonde hair and grey eyes gave her a ghost-like quality. She was a shadow lurking at the periphery of other people’s lives, barely in the world at all. In fact, most of the time, it was as though there was a wall of glass between her and everyone else.

But not here, with her animal friends. Or when she was with Ben.

Her smile faded. Ben didn’t know the truth about her magic - about how easy fire was for her - and until she was sure levitating balls of blue flames were allowed, she’d continue to copy his every move, uttering the same words and waving her hands in the same way, even pretending that it wasn’t easy.

Not that she was trying to deceive him. It was out of respect, really... and fear. But mostly just respect. He was a Magi Master after all; her Magi Master. She ought to at least try to make it work the way it should.

She smiled again. It was almost as if they belonged to each other now. As far as she knew, they were the only magi in the Ward. Two of a kind. Family... in a way. Her smile collapsed into a frown. He was more like family than Aunt Maggie and Uncle Albert.

At least Ben wanted to spend time with her.

Uncle Albert just hated her and Aunt Maggie... well. Sophie didn’t know what Aunt Maggie thought of her anymore. The last time they had taken tea together, Aunt Maggie had even seemed afraid of her.

So why did a tiny part of her feel sad at the thought of not seeing her, perhaps for weeks? Maybe it wasn’t sadness at all. Maybe it was more like regret. After all, there were moments - brief moments - when she liked Aunt Maggie.

Sophie shook her head, angry for even thinking about her. It was over. What little there had been between them was dead and buried. Punching Uncle Albert in the face, had seen to that.

‘You’re not jibbing out already, are you?’ barked Red.

Sophie refocused and shook her head. ‘Course not. I can’t wait to get going. It’s just saying bye to Ben... y’know? I’ll miss him. And I hate goodbyes.’

Red nodded. She knew how close the two HuMans had become. For her - perhaps for any animal - it was much simpler. There came a point at which all pups, kits, or cubs just had to go; a coming of age. She wasn’t old enough yet, but it was only a matter of time, unless her mother could persuade her to stay and look after the next litter.

Fat chance.

Red had no intention of babysitting. She was a fox with a future. Besides, she was best friends with the little mage; did her family really expect her to hang around the den making sure the next batch of cubs didn’t get themselves killed?

‘Get it over with,’ she said, nudging Sophie with her soft, fur covered shoulder. ‘You’ll feel better when we’re on our way to Brock’s set. We better hurry. Badgers might be nocturnal, but Brock said to get there before dark. We’re leaving at first light tomorrow, remember?’

Sophie nodded again, and they set off at a brisk pace through the snow, following the river until they arrived at the broken bridge (gateway to the heart of the Black Forest), which they crossed with ease. By now, Sophie knew every loose stone, every rotten plank. She could scale the crumbling structure with her eyes closed if she needed to.

Ben was waiting for her at the door of the watermill, thick yellow light spilling out around him into the darkness.

Red slipped away before he saw her. Sophie wasn’t supposed to befriend the animals she could now communicate with. She was supposed to keep herself apart from them. To serve them from a distance. That she had become so deeply embroiled in the lives of her animal friends, they were more like family than her own human family was something she had neglected to mention to Ben.

Sophie quickened her pace. It was always gloomy under the dense Sitka spruce. Night-time came early in the Black Forest - and the watermill looked warm and inviting. It’s giant waterwheel that wasn’t really there... or was there but was invisible (Sophie still hadn’t got to the bottom of it yet) creaked and groaned against the water forcing it round.

‘Sophie.’ Ben nodded at her, his wispy white hair sticking out at strange angles. As she passed, he heaved the ancient door shut. ‘Sit down, won’t you? I know you want to get off, but I have a few things you might find useful on your journey.’

Sophie’s heart skipped a beat. The adventure they’d been planning for so long was happening. She could only hope she was ready for it.

She pulled out a chair at the solid oak table dominating the room and sank onto it. At the far side of the table sat a shabby, green rucksack that looked as if it had come from an army surplus store.

Ben walked over to the bag and opened it. He pulled out a thick, hooded cloak, a sleeping bag and a Swiss army knife. He pointed at the sleeping bag.

‘It’s a bivvy bag. I used it all the time when I was a youngster sleeping under the stars. No need for a tent when you have one of these, though it pays to make a shelter, even on a fine night. You never know when it will rain.’

He touched the thick folds of the cloak. ‘It’s made from Llama wool. It will keep you warm even on a winter’s day. Keep the knife folded when you’re not using it; the blade is small but very sharp. You’ll need it to prepare food, to make a shelter, to make kindling for a fire; the list goes on.’

Ben paused, undecided, then leaned over the table and reached down. Reverently, he placed a small bow wrapped in cloth in front of Sophie, and beside it, a quiver of arrows. Only the reverse-twisted hemp of the bowstring was visible, but Sophie knew at once that it was priceless; an antique.

He smiled at her wide-eyed awe. ‘A Magi bow. Never used in anger, of course. It’s more symbolic than anything, stemming from a much older, much darker time when the Magi fought side by side with the Wizards. I expect you to practice every day, but be sure there are no living creatures in your line of fire. Wouldn’t do to harm anyone.’

Ben loosened the fabric encasing the bow’s curved wooden limbs. It was more than just beautiful; runes and symbols - so delicate no human tool could have carved them - decorated the shaft. It was as though the bow had been cast in a mould.

It had been cast... by a spell.

Sophie reached out.to touch it. The bow thrummed with an energy that seemed drawn to her, following her finger as she ran it gently along the wood. She shivered.

‘Your wizard made this?’

‘A wizard. Yes. But not ours. He’s many generations too young.’

‘Ben, I can’t take this. It’s too much. What if I break it? Or loose the arrows? I’ve never even tried to shoot a bow before.’

Ben smiled. ‘According to legend, this is no ordinary bow. Though I’ve never had need of its real power, and neither will you, I’m sure. I insist that you take it. I won’t let you go without it, in fact. Come on, I’ll show you how to use it.’

He nodded for her to stand.

‘Grip it just here with your left hand and stand slightly side on, like so...’ he gently twisted her shoulders. ‘Feet apart and hips in line with your shoulders. Good. Now, make sure you lower it to the ground when your attaching the arrow to the string...’

After several minutes of practice, Sophie was able to position the bow and arrow to Ben’s satisfaction.

‘The rest is just practice!’

Sophie nodded, unable to speak. She’d never met anyone like Ben before. Someone who accepted her for who she was. Welcomed her. He even thought nothing of giving her what amounted to a family heirloom. Trusting her with it. But Ben was no ordinary man. Her eyes misted over. Her Mum would have liked him too, she was sure of it.

She wrapped the cloth around the bow, encasing it once more, and gritted her teeth to hold back the flood of tears threatening to unleash themselves in front